


See You

by Deadly_Sirius



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, One Shot, Potions, Potions AU, They're both nerds, healer!Draco, prompt: you arent mean to me anymore and it's making me fall in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-17 00:34:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16505732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deadly_Sirius/pseuds/Deadly_Sirius
Summary: Harry and Draco return for their eighth year of Hogwarts. Should enemies always be enemies, or should pasts be forgiven and forgotten?"But why can't you be shitty?!""Do you want me to be?!""Yeah!""Why the fuck would you want that?!""Because I think I'm falling in love with you!"





	See You

**Author's Note:**

> NOT EDITED.

They were trying. They both were really trying hard. Draco, not to be so fucking snarky and mean. Harry, not to fall in love. It was only two months into their eighth year at Hogwarts, something Draco only joined in on for the politics, the way his mother thought it’d look in the papers. Most of the Slytherins were battling with their family being either dead or imprisoned, as the other side had just as many casualties as Harry’s. Draco seemed painfully fine with where his father was, but perhaps it was just the mask he showed to most people.

Ron hadn’t come back with Harry and Hermione. He grew up around magic and didn’t realize how special it was to learn it, but he theorized since he’d only be working in George’s shop full time, and George didn’t even finish seventh year, that it couldn’t be too important to finish school.

Harry went back because there was nothing else he could do. He spent the entire summer cleaning and remodeling Grimmauld Place into a semi-acceptable home, but really it was an excuse to dig through the building’s history and connect with Sirius, Regulus, his father and Professor Lupin. Those men meant the world to Harry, he didn’t know where Lupin had lived most of his life, and his family’s house in Godric’s Hollow had been destroyed. This was the next best thing.

Hermione had been concerned that he turned into a recluse, and although he went back to school, he was not very social anymore. He’d mumble responses to Hermione, fall asleep against Luna’s arm, smile softly at Ginny or not leave the room if one of his old roommates came in, but he barely spoke anymore. In class it seemed like his mind traveled off to distant lands, but he stopped bothering Hermione for help and he’d been doing better than when he had bothered her.

He didn’t really try to do well in his classes, it just happened. When he had to spend all of that time alone, avoiding people, reading and doing homework were pretty efficient ways of scaring people off. He didn’t really have his sharpness anymore. His edge. Harry was just plain tired.

Tired of fighting a war he didn’t start. Tired of running, tired of facing shit he didn’t want to. Tired of doing what people expected him to do, all because of how strong his parents were, not because of him. Tired of finding a job he wanted to do, tired of taking classes, tired of people, tired of living. Just, tired.

People noticed, but nobody said anything. Except Hermione, who said too much too often. She kept bothering him and having Ron send letters bothering him. He just needed to be alone for a little while. She thought that the entire summer constituted as more than a little while. Harry didn’t know.

He was genuinely lost. His only goal was to find something this year that could make him money and make other people not worry. His best bet was looking to be an auror, but he despised the thought of fighting more.

Harry was envious of Draco; he knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to be a potions healer at St. Mungos, or something of the sort. Maybe he’d go abroad so that people didn’t know his name, his face, his story. He sure as hell wouldn’t tell them.

Both boys were sleepless, but both boys were living in completely different worlds. The painful part of coming back to school for Harry was that most things didn't change. The curriculum didn't change, the warm beds and feasts of food every morning didn't change. But the minute details did, and it made coming back almost too painful to bare. Paintings of those who had passed in the battle decorated the corridors, parts of the castle were still under repair, and there were more ghosts in the school than ever. Even some of the living students walked like their spirit was already removed from their body. There was a rumor a certain red-headed twin was floating around with Peeves, but the idea was too painful for Harry to go searching for the ghost. But the worst change, was that Draco Malfoy was no longer a dick.

 

Draco and Harry saw each other often, as they were now in the same dorm. A fifth one had been built, the same size as all the others, in the wing off of the Great Hall. The door was plain and simple and required no spell or code or any magic to enter. In fact, the only requirement to enter the dorm was to successfully pass through the age line, of which anyone seventeen or older could get past. Ginny and Luna frequented the dorm, as did younger siblings of some of the eighth years. The transition back was not easy for anybody, and this way, families were less separated and those who had fought in the war could seek comfort in their friends and family. Hogwarts was all about the resources they gave their kids to get better, now.

"Malfoy, pass me the eye of newt, would you?"

"Sure."

The blond's hand reached out to pass the bottle along without even thinking. Harry paused, though. "Thanks.."

"You okay?" Malfoy asked, looking up, a hint of confusion and concern flashing by in his eyes. Harry stared back.

"Yeah. No, yeah, it's just.. I think that was the first conversation we'e had that was civil."

Malfoy sighed and turned his eyes back to his cutting board where he was crushing something that looked eerily like bone. "I've been nothing but civil to you this year, Potter. You were the one making the conversations hostile," Malfoy explained, while his hands kept busy. "We hav always seen a lot of each other. We're in similar classes, have similar interests, are in the same year. We're going to bump into each other." His point was proven as he laid down the night and had to squeeze past Harry in the tight potions study to the supply cabinet. "The least we can do is make the experiences pleasant."

Harry shrugged in response, but realized Malfoy's back was facing him as he reached up for a clear liquid-filled bottle. "Yeah, sure. That works for me, I guess."

 

\--------

 

It didn't. For some reason, it made Harry's blood boil when Malfoy gave him a polite nod as they passed in the halls, it made his clock tick louder whenever he made an effort to be nice. Yet, Harry kept fucking seeing him  _everywhere_. He and Malfoy always shared a potions study. It was a small, bare room in the dungeons for higher-level students to practice their potions, although the room was really intended for one person and three cauldrons, not two people and five. Hermione pointed out that Malfoy was  _going into_ potions, so of course he'd use a potions study, but Harry had no interest in them before this year.

"It- It helps calm me down somehow. The exactness of it. Plus, it helps me connect to my mum! You know, I found her old book in Sirius' vault. Apparently the whole group gave him all their shit to hold onto since he had the best security, the rich fuck. I've been using it, her book I mean, and it helps me sleep."

"Staring at your mum's handwriting and at the back of Malfoy's head for two hours doesn't constitute as brewing potions, Harry. And if he's bothering you so much, just use another potions study!" Hermione brushed her way past him to the dorm's door. She was heading out to the library again.

She did have a valid point, Harry didn't even remember how he and Malfoy got stuck sharing a study. They had both started using it separately and didn't realize who the other cauldrons belonged to until they both showed up at the door at the same time. By then, there were too many potions brewing for Malfoy to move his shit out, as four of them were his, and Harry was too stubborn to move his one cauldron. So they shared. And every day, they both miraculously showed up at the same time.

 

The study had sort of become Harry's safe space. The eighth year dorm was as large as all the others but housed half as many kids, so while some kids needed two, even three other roommates to get through the night, others just needed fucking  _space._ So Harry got his own room, but that meant it was a shit-show. He left clothes all over the floor, books strewn about, and candy wrappers from Ron never made it in the waste basket. He only ever cleaned his room when Hermione dragged him out of bed on a Sunday at two pm to get something done. She'd stood there and watched him, reminding him to pick this up and clean that. Harry was secretly grateful for it, because it'd gotten well into their third month back in school and he hadn't cleaned his room once. Sure, the house elves took out the waste and changed the sheets, but they weren't supposed to touch students' belongings, no matter how filthy their room became.

So the potions study was one spot Harry could enjoy, sans most people, that was clean and his. While sharing a space with Malfoy, Harry was scared he'd wake up without a few fingers if the room became even slightly as messy as his bedroom. And he really didn't mind Malfoy's company. He'd go there to read on the small couch identical to the one in every potions study, or maybe trace over Lily's writing, or even take a nap, as he wasn't sleeping in his own bed. Malfoy was there almost every time he went, he seemed to also take solace in the cramped room, but they often didn't speak.

A silent nod or a quiet "hey" was enough for the most part. Malfoy would bend over his work right away and Harry would put his feet up, getting away from loud students or nagging teachers. Potions studies weren't hidden, most students knew where they were and could have access to all of them. But nobody came in. There was no need to. If somebody needed a space to brew potions for a hand-in, or practice for a test, there were plenty of other rooms that were much better, since they weren't already in use.

 

Harry's Advanced Potions class was having a test in five days, and he was practicing making a Pepperup Potion one Thursday evening. He heard the door open and didn't bother to turn around. He knew he'd just find a pale face smiling back at his. "Hey," he murmured, squinting at the potion through a thick fog it was giving off.

"Hey yourself, Potter," Malfoy responded. Two years ago, it would've been dripping in sarcasm and envy, but today it was a simple reply, as lighthearted as the pat Draco gave Harry's back as he squeezed by to the other side of the table. The room really was too small for two people. "Pepperup?"

"You know it. I can't seem to get the fucking texture right, though."

Draco set down his bags and took a peek at the cauldron, leaning over slightly to see into it. The potion emitted a loud bang, and Harry flinched, his fist tightening painfully on his wand. Draco recognize the look on his face too well to make fun of it. "You okay? Hey, it's just the potion," he reminds, rubbing Harry's shoulder in an attempt to release some tension. "Here," he said softly, moving Harry over a few steps. He took Harry's silver cutting knife and dipped the tip of it into a vial of billywig sting slime. He flicked a few drops into the potion, releasing a sizzling sound, and the potion quickly turned into the mirky purple color it was supposed to be at this stage. Draco moved back into his space and Harry breathed a little.

"Thanks."

"No problem. I know that potion like the back of my hand by now."

"That's right.. Healer.."

"Gotta know that one for St. Mungo's," Draco chuckled. He waved his wand and the flame under a nearby cauldron went out. He poured a melted gold-like substance into a small vial, cleaned the cauldron with a quick charm, and set it back where it was. The fire under it started again.

"Fuck, you brewing today too?" Harry asked, already shedding his robes and loosening his tie. Draco replied with an affirmative hum as he opened his potions book and began tracing a finger down the ingredients list.

"Why? Is that gonna be a problem?" He asked sincerely. He looked at Harry for a second before reaching into his bag to get out supplies.

"No, it just gets really hot in here."

"Yeah. when you actually use the study for its purpose, instead of napping," Draco teases. Harry smiles lightly back before tending to his potion. A weird rage oddly comes over him, and he frowns to himself, hoping that there had been enough small talk for the time being. Draco didn't seem to agree.

"So, I was thinking, maybe Saturday we could rearrange some shit in here?"

Harry didn't look at Draco and Draco didn't look at him. "Why?"

"Dunno. The studies are typically only meant for one person and a few potions. It's evident we're going to be sharing the space, so we might as well move some of this furniture back so we can actually move around in here."

Harry's hand dropped onto the table. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize I was such a fucking inconvenience to you. Next time I'll make sure to let you have everything that I had fucking first, if we're just 'going to be sharing.'" Harry mocked, his tone nasty. Draco didn't even look up, and he kept his tone level.

"That isn't what I said. I simply want to push the couch against the wall and replace the coffee table with something smaller so we can add in an extra work bench. We could also put up some cooling charms, would that help?"

"I don't need your fucking help, Malfoy, I know how to put up cooling charms." Harry was glaring at him, but still he didn't look up, although it seemed he was struggling not to.

"I know, I just figured it'd be fun to do it together. Or at least if we do it together, we can make decisions we're both happy with."

"Right, because I'm being a little shit and can't seem to do anything correctly, huh? I'll just fuck it all up? Nothing will be the way that you want it to be?" Draco's jaw clenched as he tried to bite his tongue. "Fucking look at me!"

"What is your  _problem_?!" Malfoy spit, finally whirling around to face Harry. "Is this what you wanted?! I was perfectly pleasant, I just wanted to fix up the room a bit with you. And you're being a fucking prick! Get the stick out of your arse and do us all a favor, would you?"

Harry scowled at Malfoy and roughly packed up his belongings into his bag. "Move the shit without me, I don't give a fuck." He stormed out of the room, leaving the door wide open, but not looking back to see Malfoy holding his head in his hands.

 

\--------

 

It was the Monday after their fight, and Harry had seen Malfoy everywhere. He'd curtly nodded at Harry in the Great Hall, he'd given a relaxed wave as he head back in from the Quidditch Pitch as Harry began his practice. They'd dueled in Defense Against the Dark Arts, which was basically an obsolete class for the both of them at this point, and saw each other in their History of Magic study group on Sunday. Malfoy's mentioned that he moved around the study a little, and Harry grunted a reply, insistent on acting like he didn't care.

But it was Monday, and Harry's Potions test was tomorrow. Because of their fight, he never did figure out the end to the Pepperup Potion. So he lugged his supplies down into the dungeons and pushed the door open with his back. Malfoy was already in there, working on something the color of Ginny's hair. Harry was about to say hi, when he turned around and noticed the room.

It was no larger than it had been before, but the room was much more open. Draco had moved stuffy chairs and extra rows and rows of extra shit neither of them would be using ether out of the room or into the closet. Their primary worktable was moved to the middle of the room so they wouldn't have to scrape their backs on the wall to squeeze past one another, but two extra tables lined the far wall. In the corner to Harry's left, their comfy and squished couch sat with a similar looking chair. Instead of a wooden coffee table, there was a small glass one next to the couch. On the right, by the door to the supply closet, were some hooks and cabinets. Draco's schoolbag and robes were already hanging. The cabinets seemed to simply be more storage when the closet ran out of room, but there were some books and other shit that had no reason to live in their rooms and have to be moved every day sitting inside.

"Doesn't look like total shit."

"Thanks," Draco responded drily. He nodded his head towards the extra worktables. "To leave potions brewing. The Slytherin flag means that one's mine. The Gryffindor flag is yours." Harry wanted to smile at the ingenuity and familiarity of the room, but he didn't. He simply set his shit down and got to work on the opposite side of the table from Malfoy. Neither of them said a word the entire time.

When Harry's Pepperup Potion was eighty percent done, the heat was too unbearable. Malfoy hadn't put the charms into the room yet, as to permanently alter a part of the castle needed approval from the Headmaster, and McGonagall was much too busy with other things. Having already loosened his tie and kicked off his socks and shoes, Harry resulted in pulling his shirt over his head. Malfoy scoffed. "What? I run warm, fuckhead."

"Sure you do, Lightening Boy."

"You must be fine, what with your ice cold heart."

"Fuck off," Draco chuckled. The name-calling was the same as before, but their intent was very different. No venom laced their tongues, so they stood in comfortable silence as the cauldrons gurgled.

"What're you working on?"

"Should I tell you? Or are you just gonna start yelling about how much of an arse I am for wanting to help people?" Draco asked, quick witted.

"Sorry about Thursday. You can tell me," Harry insisted.

Draco rolled his eyes and gestured for him to come over. "It's a Grand Wiggenweld Potion. It can cure the effects of the Draught of Living Death."

"Shit, that must be difficult to brew."

"It's taken me about two months so far. I started making it the first day of school but I fucked up that batch," Draco explained, quickly stirring the dark green substance. 

"What do you have to do next?" Harry asked, suddenly very interested in the way Draco's shoulder flexed through his sweat-soaked undershirt as he stirred. "Do you need any help?"

Draco shrugged, the fabric riding up a little to show a thin stretch of skin in between his shirt and his black dress pants. "I think it's good for now. Besides waiting with me for a few hours, there's not much to be done."

"Oh, well my Pepperup Potion is still sitting too. I could wait after it's finished until your done, if you want. Maybe grab a bite to eat in Hogsmeade?"

"Sure, but the food here will probably be better than any pub in town. I mean, yeah it's nice to have eighth year privileges and go whenever we want, but it's not always worth it. It's whatever you want, though," Draco responded, finally setting the stirring rod down and wiping his palms on a rag. Harry was mad he didn't realize how important this was. How he was trying to make an effort with the guy, not try to be dismissed.

"Fuck it, just do what you want. It doesn't matter. I'll just end up ruining your night anyways."

Malfoy rolled his eyes, swatting Harry with the rag. "The fuck's up with you recently?"

"Nothing. I guess your civil attitude's just a front for your probation anyways. I'll leave you alone." Harry pushed off of the worktable and walked over to the couch, feeling the leather stick to his skin.

"What did I do?!" Malfoy groaned, frowning at Harry. The Gryffindor thought about his words for awhile before he caved and jumped up.

"Why won't you be a jerk to me?!"

"What?"

"Why can't you just be a regular old arsehole who I never have to see, like before?!"

"Because we  _do_ have to see each other! I told you all of this!"

"But why can't you be shitty?!"

"Do you  _want_ me to be?!"

"Yeah!"

"Why the fuck would you want that?!"

"Because I think I'm falling in love with you!"

 

The bubble of potions suddenly felt too loud and Harry was acutely aware of how dry his mouth was and how tight his fists were. He and Draco were standing opposite each other, hair wild and faces flushed. Draco's mouth opened and closed and Harry released his hands.

"Forget I said anything," Harry muttered, pushing past Draco and grabbing his bag, pushing his robes and shirt into it.

"Wait, Hrar-"

"I said, forget it," he said, more forceful this time.

"But, your Pepperup-"

"The test doesn't fucking matter. I won't be going into Potions anyways."

The door swung shut behind him and Draco stared at it, dumbfounded.

 

\--------

 

Harry guessed that Hermione was right. He must have not actually wanted to avoid Malfoy earlier if he saw the Slytherin everywhere, because now he really didn't want to see Malfoy and it felt like he just disappeared. Harry was almost convinced he should ask McGonagall if he dropped out and moved to France.

It wasn't like Malfoy was the only one disappearing, oh no. Harry was also avoiding every possible situation that could lead him to Malfoy as well. He got a Poor on his History of Magic quiz because he stopped going to the study group. He switched around Gryffindor's practice schedule so they'd get on the field before Hufflepuff instead of after Slytherin. If he did go to Defense Against the Dark Arts, which wasn't really necessary as the teacher had told him as long as he passed the exams he could skip class, he was practically glued to Hermione's side the whole time, and was the first one out the door.

What Harry couldn't prepare for, however, was Draco searching for him.

  
About four days had passed when Harry got a knock on his bedroom door. He opened it, saw Malfoy, and immediately closed the door again before the boy could open his mouth. Harry sat back onto his bed, and continued his Charms reading. He heard Malfoy sigh on the other side of the door, and then it was pushed open. He stood in the doorframe for a moment, before sitting down backwards in the desk chair opposite Harry's bed, so his legs had to be on either sides of the chair as he rested his forearms on the back, his hands clasped together. 

"We going to talk about it?" He asked to silence. His response was the turning of a page out of a Charms textbook. Draco sighed and rubbed his hands together. "Harry, listen. I think-"

"I never asked for what you thought Malfoy. Kindly go fuck yourself and get out of my room."

Harry's voice was steely and made Draco's mouth twist up. "So you wanna just continue this trend of avoiding each other and repressing emotions? I haven't been in our Potions Study in four days, have you?"

The lack of response answered Draco's question quite plainly.

"Listen, I know you're shit at feeling things, especially when they don't match your pissed-off attitude, but could we fucking talk? Please? Like the adults who just survived a war like we are?"

"Yeah, you might have survived, but I fucking died in the forest, Malfoy, so I don't want to put up with your shit."

"Just talk to me goddamn it!" Draco slammed the side of his palms against the chair's back. Harry was startled enough to look up. "I was going to say.. that I think we should go on the Hogsmeade date."

"What?"

"When you asked me to Hogsmeade, that was a date right? The only reason I said no was because I thought that might not have been your intention and I'd be too obvious during dinner that you'd get mad at me or something. But now, I figure, it probably  _is_ a date if you're falling in love with me."

"I said 'I think' I am not that I am," Harry corrected.

"Just fucking go on a date with me tonight."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Good."

"Good."

After a pause, Draco carefully stood up, and moved towards the door. "So I'll just let myself out then.."

"Get your arse over here," Harry muttered, standing up and meeting Draco halfway before their lips met. His hand traveled up the back of Draco's neck, but the hair was too finely cut there to grab onto, so he dropped it down to meet his other hand on Draco's waist, and then lower, where there was something to grab onto. Draco's hands were on Harry's chest, pulling him in close. Their lips felt hotter than the study on a day when they were both brewing, and eventually the heat was too much and they broke apart.

"So," Draco panted as he rested his forehead against Harry's. "I'll see you tonight?"

"Yeah."

"Right.. Uh, bye."

"Bye."

Draco slipped out of Harry's grasp for the last time, and he walked through Harry's doorframe. The latter stared openly at his arse, and Draco blushed when he turned around.

"See you."

"See you."

**Author's Note:**

> Leave comments and/or kudos if you liked it!! <3


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